Pinku-Enchanted Life

A basket full of cakes, doughnuts, chocolates, cheese, olives, bread, juice, rum and coke. A car tank filled with fuel. A heart set on adventure. A mind taking rest from being practical. The perfect ingredients to have a terrific time. That’s how the last trip to the hills started. When you start on a trip you need a destination don’t you? The easiest way to decide on one is to get a list of probable destinations and do a random selection. Your lucky number, your pet’s date of birth or the number of helpings of ice cream you had last night are equally good numbers to choose from. I though went with a more sedate method, I opened the book found the first place that was listed and firmly believing the first page of a book is the best place to begin headed towards Lansdowne. A maniacal 7 hour drive from Delhi through Meerut, Bijnor and a host of small and big towns with nary a break found us in Kotdwar. The last town before the drive into the Pauri Garhwal hills began. Dusk had fallen and

Remember watching fascinated, neck craning, breath caught in throat as your eyes followed the hero of your dreams soaring wingless high above you? You wanted to follow his footsteps, assuredly letting go of one swing as another moved towards you in a synchronized motion that never failed. The calm with which he sailed into space and reached out with complete confidence made him seem like Superman. You were told; ‘you are too young to follow, you must wait till you are older’ and you went away holding mommy’s hand promising yourself that you would come back as soon as you were old enough. The wait was oh! so long and you wondered many a time if the circus and the Trapeze man would still be there waiting for you or will they have gone away. Your heart wrenched at the thought and you couldn’t wait to grow up soon enough. Then one day you finally did. You were ready to soar into the sky. And you looked for the circus tent within which was the magical land of your dreams. But alas! now the

Hold it in both hands draw attention by looking into his eyes with a mysterious smile. Wait for him to draw close, interest and curiosity making him a little breathless wondering what it could be that makes your eyes twinkle so. Hold it up and whisper I got it especially for you. Look up at him with adoring eyes, wait with bated breathe for him to accept then look on as he tears open your carefully done wrapping. He looks it over and says well this is nice but couldn't you have bought a different colour? I already have three of these. You look on, fumble for an answer then ask shall I have it changed? He thinks for a moment and then replies, leave it we can gift it to the neighbour on his wedding You nod your agreement. After all you can't dispute that it is a lot of trouble to go back to the store you had had turned upside down looking for that particular shade of blue. Gift giving you decide is an art no doubt but having it accepted is God's blessing no less.

The haze lifted momentarily and my eyes slowly focused on the fast zooming fan stuck to the wall as I tried to recall where I was. Then it struck me I was back in my one room PG digs and the throbbing in my body and head was caused by the sudden high fever and the exertion of the past hours. As I reached for the bottle of water kept somewhere on the bed my head reeled and I had the distinct feeling of being on a roller coaster. Roller coaster, the thought brought with it a smile and a groan. That’s how I had described my life nine months back and everyday since then had been nothing but a new ride at a new speed with new hurdles. The latest lap on it had been an impromptu trip to the hills. It started of pretty inanely with a wish to breathe in some fresh air outside the confines of the city limits and it somehow stretched into a long ride which finished at my favorite hill station, Nainital and then a mad rush to be back in the city in time for office. They say people never forget the

I want to write and put in order the terribly confusing thoughts in my mind. But I am afraid to put them down in black and white. That would mean confronting them, accepting them as mine, born from me. How can I let that happen? How can I irrefutably allow them that distinction? I must hide my thoughts; glance at them only furtively making sure that no one knows what I am thinking. Thoughts can be very dangerous, one must think a hundred times before indulging in them and a thousand before revealing them to anyone else. Why you ask I feel this way? You feel I am paranoid? Let me tell you then, I had thought of, created in my dreams a life filled with love and laughter. Honesty, benevolence, goodwill, a broad approach to life and the living all had a place under the sun in that world. It was all very nice, very beautiful. But then I destroyed it. Know how? I shared it with people I thought were companions. Those people listened, nodded their heads and smiled as if convinced with all of

Tramp on dream on that’s what its all about Gloat over small successes weep over frustrations and going nowhere days Envision a better future find a bleary one staring at you instead bite your tongue bow your head and make that one last effort yet again who knows flighty luck may alight on you this once

The balcony was a secluded affair. Small with just enough space to accommodate two chairs it looked meant for those moments in life when you forget about the existence of any other being except perhaps you and the person with you (if you are lucky enough to have someone with you that is). The view stretched out over the tin and slate rooftops to the mountain whose summit had vanished into the clouds. It was a sparkling green in color with pockets of darker green where perhaps the trees had crowded over too much. I sat with my pen and diary, as is my wont whenever I am traveling, ready to scribble whatever stray thought would enter my head. But both lay unused as I sat and looked at the rain falling from the sky, the rooftops, the leaves, the wires, the balcony grill. It seemed ironical that here I was on a beautiful hill station, in a secluded balcony, with the most romantic rainfall imaginable and no one to share it with. Why is life so unfair? My friends had hinted at just this when